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A flush covered his cheekbones, and he shot a look at Seth. “He surprised me while I was shaving.”
Frowning, she eyed the cut on his face. “Do you need a doctor?”
“No.” His lips tightened. “I need to make sure my niece and nephew are safe, then get out there in the courtroom and try the case I’ve got waiting for me.”
“They’re safe,” she assured him. “As soon as we got the call, two other marshals and several officers headed for your house. Authorities are also fanning out around the building here. We’re pulling the security videos from the cameras around your office.”
Nick nodded. “It didn’t come through the U.S. mail. It came through interoffice mail. If you look at the cameras, all you’re going to see is my secretary entering my office and placing an interoffice envelope on my desk.”
“We’ll still check. We’ll be checking your phone records, too.”
Nick shook his head. “Of course, but what do you want to bet that threatening call came from an untraceable prepaid cell-phone number?”
“Unfortunately, you’re probably right.”
Mason cleared his throat. “What exactly did the letter say?”
Nick reached into his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper encased in a paper bag. At Carly’s raised brow, he shrugged. “I’ve had police training, remember? Before I decided what I wanted to do with my life, I went through the police academy. I can gather evidence without contaminating it just as well as any cop.”
As she took it from him, her fingers brushed his and she felt their warmth briefly against her own. Shivers danced along her spine and she cleared her throat, ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks. She didn’t want to be attracted to a man she didn’t respect.
Focusing, she snapped on a glove and pulled the letter from the bag. She read aloud, “Drop the de Lugo case, Judge, or you’ll be sorry. You’ve already lost a sister and a wife. What would those kids do if they lost you, too? You’re not safe anywhere. Your home, your office, your gym, your bed—there’s nowhere we can’t get to you. If you don’t drop the case, you’d better update your will.”
Carly passed the letter to Mason and looked up at the handsome judge. “The de Lugo trial.” A statement, not a question. She knew about the trial.
“Yes, the trial of Ricardo de Lugo and his murdering band of cohorts is set to start in less than one week. Six days to be exact. Two years of undercover work by two FBI agents finally netted enough evidence to put him away for life—possibly even give him the death penalty.” He paused. “Assuming we make it to trial. No matter how much protection is offered, it seems this man has eyes and ears everywhere.” He gestured to the letter. “Someone who knows me pretty well seems to be passing on information.”
Carly shifted. “We have marshals on the FBI agents’ families, too. As for this—” she waved the letter “—he doesn’t necessarily have to know you well. A little research online probably told him everything ever published in the newspaper about you. But,” she mused, “whoever wrote this appears to be educated. Proper grammar, flawless punctuation…”
Seth stood. “I’ve got to get back to my partner. I left him guarding a prisoner who gets on your nerves after five minutes in his company. He’ll be ready for a break.”
Mason shook his hand. “We’ve got this covered. Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.” Seth left, and Mason turned to Nicholas. “You’re still determined to go out there?”
A hard sheen flattened his gold-green eyes. “Absolutely.”
“When will your current trial wrap up?”
“I’m hoping by this afternoon. It’s a pretty straightforward case.”
“After that, what would you think about hiding out in a safe house until the de Lugo trial starts?”
He didn’t answer at first. “If it were just threats against me, I would say forget it. I’ve had training. But the kids…” He stood. “I’ve got to change my shirt and get into my robe. Let me think about it.”
“There’s really nothing to think about, sir. All the training in the world won’t stop a sniper’s bullet. And while we can’t exactly stop it, either, we give you a better chance of ducking when one heads your way. You need us, whether you like it or not.”
Carly watched Nick and Mason square off.
“Think of the children, Nicholas,” Carly offered softly. When she’d first met him two years ago, he hadn’t had the children. His wife and sister had been alive. She’d seen pictures of the kids, and he’d told her about them in detail, like the doting uncle he was.
Since then a lot had happened. He’d lost two women he’d loved, gained two children—and released a killer to kill again.
She blinked that last thought away.
He blew out a breath and undid the buttons on his cuffs. Forearms roped with strength emerged as he shoved the sleeves up to his elbows; Carly swallowed hard, desperately trying to convince herself she was not feeling another tug of attraction.
What was wrong with her?
“Look,” Nick said as he headed for the door, “we just moved here to Spartanburg a year ago. My mother moved out to California to take care of my sick aunt, and my latest nanny up and quit on me so I have a friend filling in.” He shook his head. “Since my sister died in the car wreck with my wife, there’s been no real consistency in my niece and nephew’s lives. Lindsey and Christopher need that. They crave that. My house is about as safe as you can get. Granted, it’s not hard to find, but I’m not listed in the phone book, either. As for the information online, that was all newspaper stuff. Nothing about where I live.” He shot Carly and Mason a hard look. “If I let you move in to my house, can you keep the kids safe while they go through their usual daily routine?”
Carly glanced at Mason, who shrugged. To Nick, she said, “Yes. The children weren’t threatened. That’s a good thing. But it’s obvious the de Lugos are trying to hit you where you’re vulnerable. They mention the kids, but there’s no overt threat to them. However, if you ask me, that’s still a threat, no matter how subtle. We’ll take extra precautions with the children, of course, but your safety is our main concern right now, since you were the one threatened.”
She wondered if she would believe those words one day, but they seemed to ease Nick’s mind a little. For her, though, just the fact that there were children involved would keep her up nights until this assignment came to an end.
Nick nodded. “Then pack your bags. I’ll tell my housekeeper you guys are moving in for a while.”
Carly watched Nicholas walk up the steps and settle himself into the judge’s chair. The bailiff took up residence off to the side. As the jury filed in, she noted their serious expressions. Several looked at the door through which the defendant would enter. Others watched their feet, never lifting their eyes from the floor even as they settled into their chairs.
Interesting and odd, she noted, picking up on the undercurrents flowing around the group.
The prosecutor already sat at his table.
The door opened, and Seth and his partner led an orange-suited, leg-shackled prisoner through it.
Harrison Frasier. On trial for the murder of a local stockbroker. He claimed he was innocent, but the security video captured him in the office at the time of the murder even though it didn’t actually show him pulling the trigger. The murder weapon was never found. However, a witness and DNA, along with the video, almost assured a guilty verdict.
Harrison Frasier. Carly tapped her lip as she studied the man. Good-looking, athletic build, early twenties. Looked like the boy next door you’d hire to mow your grass.
The jury foreman rose. Judge Floyd nodded to the man. “Has the jury reached a verdict, sir?”
“We have, Your Honor.” He carried it to the bench and handed it over.
Nicholas read it and handed it back without blinking an eye or changing expression, although Carly wondered if she was the only one who noticed the muscle jumping along his jawline.
The foreman returned to his chair and stood in front of it.
Harrison Frasier stood.
Nicholas cleared his throat and asked, “Would you please read the verdict?”
“We, the jury, find the defendant not guilty on all charges.”
Pandemonium broke loose.
“No!” A woman in her forties stood, tears streaming down her cheeks. Carly recognized her from the news. She was the wife of the victim. An older gentleman who looked to be her father wrapped an arm around her shoulder and simply stared at Nicholas, then at the foreman.
Carly had to strain to hear the man’s words over the chaos. “How could you let this happen?”
Nicholas stood and headed down the steps.
“Why didn’t you do something, Judge? You should have done something.” This time she heard the man loud and clear.
Nick stopped and looked out at the man who’d hollered. Sadness covered his features, and he shook his head.
“You’ll pay for this!”
Carly’s attention meter stood at full alert as she and Mason hurried to Nick’s side. A threat? She glanced at the officer nearest the door. He had his eyes on the individual who’d issued the threat. Carly relaxed a tad as she realized the man had directed his last comment to the defendant, who now stood a free man. Harrison Frasier laughed and turned his back on the elderly man.
Eyes blazing, cheeks still wet, the victim’s wife grabbed her father’s hand and pulled him toward the double rear doors of the courtroom, pushing her way through the throng of reporters and flashing cameras.
At Nicholas’s side, Carly looked at Harrison and saw him hug his lawyer and another young woman. A sister? A wife? Girlfriend?
Escorting the judge back to his chambers adjacent to the courtroom, Carly opened the door. Mason entered, weapon drawn.
Nicholas stood just inside the door next to Carly. “Come on. Isn’t this a bit extreme?”
She just looked at him, trying not to admire his handsome features. Right now, they were hard, as though chiseled in stone. The only imperfection was on his jawline where he’d sliced himself with the razor.
Distracting herself from that line of thought, she asked, “Haven’t you heard, ‘Better safe than sorry’?”
She thought she heard his teeth click together but was glad when he said nothing else. She really didn’t want to argue with him. Mason came out of the bathroom. “All clear.”
Carly heard the rasp of the zipper on Nicholas’ robe. He tossed it over the back of the chair. “Let’s get out of here. I want to check on my family.”
Gladly.
Carly led the way out the door, checking the hallway as she listened to his footfalls behind her. She shivered as she felt his gaze touch her back. What was he thinking? Was he wondering what she thought of him? That it was because of him that her friend and mentor had been killed? Did he even know?
Mason brought up the rear as they approached the back door of the building. Shoving ahead of Carly and Nicholas, he pushed open the door. Carly laid a restraining hand on Nicholas. “Wait a minute.”
An impatient sigh hissed from him, but he held his tongue and stood still.
Mason’s head popped back in. “We’re clear.”
Carly stepped out, looked both ways then motioned for Nicholas to follow. “Give Mason your keys. He’ll drive your car.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be…”
“Hey, Judge!”
The trio turned as one to see Harrison Frasier reveling in his newly declared freedom. One hand on the passenger door of a minivan, the man offered Nicholas a salute with his free hand. “Great job in there, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend, you—”
A loud pop cut off Nicholas’s outraged growl.
Carly reacted by giving Nicholas a hard shove behind the nearest parked car and throwing herself on top of him. If a bullet was headed his way, it was going through her first. But when she looked back, it was Harrison who lay on the ground, a dark red stain growing across his chest.
TWO
“Get inside,” she ordered as she scrambled into a crouched position beside him, “just in case our shooter is still somewhere nearby.”
Without comment, pulse pounding with adrenaline, Nicholas pulled himself to his feet and pushed the door open for Carly, then followed her through it. Mason headed over to the scene.
Nicholas’s brain processed Carly’s words as he leaned against the wall to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest as his mind replayed the image of Harrison being hit with the bullet.
Shock quickly followed the surprise on the man’s arrogant features. Then he’d almost looked pleading as he’d dropped to the ground.
Absently, Nicholas heard Carly talking to someone on her radio. Calling for help? His mind went to Lindsey and Christopher. He glanced at his watch. They’d be home from school by now, and he had to make sure they were safe. Carly had assured him they weren’t in any danger, but he wanted to hear that for himself from someone who had eyes on them.
Even as he subconsciously waited for the sound of another bullet, he yanked out his cell phone and pressed the speed-dial number. “Hello?”
Forcing a calmness into his voice he didn’t feel, he asked, “Debbie, is everything all right at the house?”
“Hi, Nick. Everything’s fine. Two U.S. Marshals showed up at the children’s school saying you’d been threatened and they were just there to keep an eye on things. They followed me home and are still here. Are you okay?”
He closed his eyes, picturing the children’s nanny. Debbie had been a blessing in one of his greatest times of need. When his mother had decided to leave for California, the daughter of his best friend and fellow judge, Wayne Thomas, had volunteered to fill in as caretaker for Lindsey and Christopher until he could find someone on a permanent basis. “Yes, I’m fine.” He’d tell her about the shooting later. “I’m just going to be a bit delayed in getting home, all right?”
“Sure, Nick. No problem.”
“Thanks, Deb.” The fact that he’d been threatened wouldn’t freak her out, but she’d be on high alert. Her father, Wayne Thomas, was also a judge, so she knew about threats and protective details. However, the fact that Nicholas had been present when a shooter actually killed someone might be a bit much for her.
He hung up and watched Carly walk toward him, holstering her weapon. His heart flipped into a weird beat at the sight of her, face flushed, dark curls escaping her ponytail. Mirrored sunglasses covered her eyes, so he couldn’t read her expression. He swallowed hard. Was he attracted to her? Surely not. He had appreciated her friendship two years ago. But he’d been a married man then—and no matter how troubled his marriage had been, he would never have jeopardized it by allowing himself to get close to another woman. Still, Carly had been easy to talk to, a true friend.
Focusing on her words, he pushed his thoughts away. “The shooter got away.”
Nicholas narrowed his eyes and determined to pull his own gun from the wall safe just as soon as he got home. The door opened behind him as he questioned Carly. “Why Harrison Frasier?”
“I have no idea.”
“I do.”
Nicholas turned to see Mason step inside.
A quick glimpse behind Mason as the door shut showed authorities swarming the area. The press had arrived in record time, since they were already on the premises for the trial.
Harrison had already been transported from the scene. Yellow tape marked the area where the crime-scene unit now worked. The door clicked shut, and the deputy marshal held something in his left hand that he offered to Carly. She took it.
“What is it?” Nick asked.
“Apparently, our guy is fond of letters. Two in one day.”
“So, the shooter isn’t the father of the victim.” Nick stated the thought that had been in his head ever since he’d seen Harrison go down.
“No, I’m going to say not.”
Nicholas leaned over Carly’s shoulder to read. Her scent swirled around him and, against his better judgment, he breathed in deep. Then the typed words pulled the air from his lungs.
